


The Flurry of Key Bearing Awesome

by charis2770



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: 8/13/13, AkuRoku - Freeform, AkuRoku Day 2013, I'm a horrible person, Lea is a BAMF, M/M, Sephiroth is a bag of dicks but so is Yen Sid!, Torture, oh my god the angst!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-13
Updated: 2013-08-13
Packaged: 2017-12-23 10:06:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/925081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charis2770/pseuds/charis2770
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lea awakens in Radiant Garden and sets off on his quest to find Isa and the others. And Roxas, of course. He meets some strange characters, and finds himself accepting the challenge of training to be a keyblade wielder in the upcoming battle against Xehanort and the forces of Darkness. It won't be easy, but he doesn't care. He's awesome, and he's got this. Then Yen Sid shows him evidence of a terrible tragedy. Lea can save Riku and Sora...and Roxas...if he puts himself in Sephiroth's hands for 24 hours without fighting him or trying to escape. He agrees, of course. He's not going to let a little torture stand in his way.</p><p>This is the beginning of my thoughts of some of the hell Lea must go through to become a Guardian of Light behind the scenes of Dream Drop Distance. It is pretty grim. I am posting chapter one in honor of AkuRoku day.</p><p>This story is dedicated to Shadow and Tyrant, BrightFirePro's Axel and Roxas. I love you guys!</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Flurry of Key Bearing Awesome

**Author's Note:**

> Some of this story is funny. Some of it is wrenching. Some of it is just grim. It contains some pretty awful situations of torture and abuse by Sephiroth. The sexual assault is not described in detail, but it's still pretty clear what is happening, so please be aware of possible triggers if these are issues for you.

He realizes about 5 minutes after he stomps out of the lab on his one-man mission to find Isa (and the others….he’s  not entirely sure who that includes, because it strikes him that he doesn’t even know what Demyx’s Somebody name is, or Larxene’s or Maluxia’s or Luxord’s…and he’s resolutely ignoring the voice that’s telling him he knows damn well he’s not going to just be able to FIND Roxas and…no, that’s all of them…isn’t it?) but of course mainly he is looking for Isa, because Isa was taken with the rest of them and Isa should have waked up with the rest of them. And fuck the voice, he’s finding Roxas. He’s out there somewhere, Lea knows it like he knows his heart beats again (it feels remarkably like it felt before, when he was still Nobody, so hey, there’s another lie Xemnas probably told them).

So because he has stormed out on his righteous errand without any plan whatsoever, Lea wanders around Radiant Garden just asking people if they’ve seen a boy with blue hair named Isa, or if they know Roxas. Finally he comes upon a guy standing on a wall looking down over several city blocks beneath him. The young man is wearing black leather pants…no, Lea’s pretty sure they’re chaps, lots of buckles and they look pretty good on him from this angle too. A leather jacket with a tattered fur collar hits his midriff, exposing the white t-shirt tucked into his pants, showing off a trim waist and broad shoulders. His shaggy brown hair tosses a little in the wind. Lea allows himself a few seconds of appreciating the view before he opens his mouth.

“Did you want something, or were you just going to stand there?” asks the guy blandly, not looking down. Lea frowns.

“I’m looking for some people,” he says coolly.

“Thought I might have them in my pockets?” asks the leather-clad stranger in a mild voice. He does look down now, and his mouth quirks in a fleeting smile.

“Um,” says Lea intelligently.

“I haven’t seen you around here,” says the guy. “I’m Leon.”

“Ax….Lea. I’m Lea,” he says firmly, fingertips touching his cheeks where his tattoos no longer reside.

“Who’re you looking for, Lea?” asks Leon, who has started to get that sort of gentle, careful tone in his voice you use around really sick or crazy or retarded people you don’t want to upset.

“Isa,” he says firmly. “I’m looking for my friend Isa. He used to live here? He should be here somewhere. I am, so he should be too.”

“Of course,” says Leon, glancing at his sideways. Lea grits his teeth.

“I’m not a retard,” he snarls. “I grew up here. My best friend’s name wa…is…Isa. I need to find him. He has blue hair.”

Leon looks uncomfortable.

“Dude…do you know what happened here?”

“Which time?” asks Lea, and suddenly feels like laughing wildly.

“There’s a point,” agrees Leon. “But if you know some of the crazy shit that’s happened here, then you gotta know that this place just about got blown to hell a while back. If your friend was here….”

“He wasn’t,” says Lea with great certainty, because of course, Saix hadn’t been here then. “Xehanort and Maleficent did their damage while we were…never mind.”

“While you were what?” asks the other guy keenly.

Oh what the hell. He’s not going to get far by not telling people what’s going on, not if he wants to actually accomplish anything.

“Nobody,” he says softly.

“Do what now?”

“While we were Nobody,” says Lea more clearly. Leon’s eyebrows shoot up almost to his hairline and he is suddenly off the stone wall and standing in front of Lea, his body posture defensive, his right hand flexing a little. It’s a swordsman’s gesture, and Lea tenses up.

“That’s an interesting coat,” says Leon softly. Lea has unzipped it, because he was hot and because he can suddenly sweat again and because he just doesn’t care to stroll around town looking like one of Xemnas’ lackeys if he can help it.

“It was made special just for me,” says Lea bitterly.

“You don’t act much like a Nobody,” says Leon suspiciously.

“Well shit,” says Lea, huffing out a small laugh. “I didn’t act much like a Nobody when I was one.”

“Was one?”

“Yeah, I got over it,” he shrugs. Leon straightens up and stares at him for a long time, the look on his face saying clearly that he’s not sure Lea’s telling the truth but that he at least knows something about some of the stuff Lea’s talking about.

“I think maybe you better come with me,” he says finally.

“Yeah? Where to?” demands Lea, who is DONE with following blindly.

“To see a fellow named Merlin. That’s all you need to…”

“I know who he is,” Lea interrupts quickly. And he does. Sort of anyway. Magic might be just the thing he needs. “Yeah, I’ll come with you.”

Leon leads him through town to a funny little cottage which doesn’t match the rest of the architecture or décor very well, and which, somewhat to his alarm, is much bigger on the inside than it is on the outside. There’s an old man in a tall, ridiculous cone-shaped hat bent over a huge book. He’s chewing on his long gray beard. Leon clears his throat when it becomes apparent that the wizard hasn’t noticed their arrival. Merlin whirls about, startled, at the sound. He relaxes when he sees Leon, then suddenly leaps backwards in alarm when he takes in Lea’s presence.

“Castor and Pollux,” he yelps. “The Organization!”

“How good a wizard can you be if you don’t even know there isn’t any Organization anymore,” says Lea in disgust.

“Heavens,” says Merlin, smoothing his beard and patting his pockets like he’s looking for something. He doesn’t pull anything out of them, so Lea decides it’s just a gesture. “You’re quite right, my dear boy, you just startled me.”

“That happens to him a lot,” murmurs Leon, whereupon he turns and walks out, leaving Lea facing a man who until recently was supposed to be his enemy.

“Now then,” says the wizard, seemingly unperturbed now that he has recovered from his surprise. “What can I do for you, young man?”

“I…I’m looking for Isa, and the….others,” he says, feeling strangely reluctant to mention Roxas to this man. Probably because he’s one of Sora’s supporters. This is probably a pretty vague answer, but he doesn’t care. He doesn’t really know this man, and has no reason to trust him. For all he knows, the old kook has sent some invisible signal to his lackeys and is just stalling until they can arrive and toss Lea into some dungeon to rot.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” says Merlin primly. “If I’d intended any such thing, I had Leon here to attend to that. If I felt you were a threat, I wouldn’t have let him leave.”

“Wha…” says Lea, stunned, because he’s sure he hadn’t said any of that out loud.

“You really ought to relax,” says Merlin, bustling about doing something with tea cups and saucers as the delicate china scrambles around on a table in an attempt to either help him or prevent themselves from being chipped by his meddling, it’s hard to tell. “Sit. Have some tea. We’ll have a chat.”

This whole thing is so startling that Lea finds himself seated in a big squashy arm chair with pink flowers on it, rather than snarking at the guy and demanding answers, which is what he should be doing. He even drinks some tea. Just as he’s starting to recover his sense of reality and leap from his seat, Merlin smiles at him and leans forward.

“It really isn’t hopeless, you know,” he says kindly. “Despite that voice in your head that tells you this is a fool’s errand.”

“I…what?” says Lea stupidly, blinking at Merlin in shock.

“I don’t know for certain what has become of your friends, but I am almost sure there is at least some small hope of saving them.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes, I believe so. And Roxas…”

“He’s not gone,” snarls Lea defensively. “You can say so as much as you want, I don’t care.”

Merlin blinks in surprise.

“Of course he’s not gone,” says the wizard calmly. “Whoever told you that?”

“I…” Lea’s getting a little annoyed that he keeps not knowing what to say to this man. But he realizes suddenly that nobody has actually told him Roxas is gone forever, not in those exact words anyway.

“Why didn’t Isa wake up with the rest of us?” he demands, this being a question he’s more comfortable with than the current line of discussion.

“Isa and the others are still under the thumb of the being you knew as Xemnas,” says a much deeper voice from a doorway across the room. This time Lea does leap from his chair, whirling to face the threat. Another wizard enters the room, moving slowly and ponderously. His beady eyes pin Lea to the floor, and he swallows hard, feeling suddenly terrified and not liking it one bit. He feels naked, stripped down to skin and bone, his thoughts and heart laid bare, and he hates it.

“Who the fuck are you?” he demands, hating the breathy tone to his voice, wanting very much to catch something on fire.

“I am Yen Sid,” says the robed man calmly.

“What do you mean, under Xemnas’ thumb? Did Sora kill Xemnas or not? He was supposed to!”

“He did,” says the wizard, sitting down and accepting a cup of tea from Merlin with a nod, then frowning at the cup in his hand a little.

“But as is evidenced by the fact that you are sitting here, death is not the end for a Nobody. He is himself once more, the man known as Xehanort. Man, or men. My sight is clouded somewhat. But I do know that those you seek are with him still, are part of his plans, whatever they may be. We are working to determine this.”

“Then I’ll go rescue them,” says Lea hotly. “Just tell me where to find them!”

“It is not so simple, young man,” says Yen Sid gravely. “None are within our reach at this time. But a great conflict is coming, and the time to redeem them will come when it does. If you wish to regain what you have lost…” He looks at Lea keenly, almost glaring at him, “ _all_ you have lost, young Lea…then you must join us in the battle to come.”

Lea is momentarily breathless, because in the moments Yen Sid’s cold eyes had bored into him, he had seen, had felt, that the wizard was not only referring to Isa and his other friends. Roxas’ face and his bright blue eyes swims in front of his eyes, so close he feels he can almost touch him.

“What do I have to do?” he asks.

“You have only one chance, one hope,” replies Yen Sid gravely.

“I’m good at that,” says Lea grimly.

“Indeed you are, and that is why I am going to tell you what you must do. Your chance to save what you love will come to you only if you are able to become a Key bearer.”

“I what now?”

“It will not be easy, and there is not much time. There are ways to…rearrange….the flow of time to give you the chance to complete the training. You may still fail. If Merlin and I activate the time pocket, and you do not pass the tests, it is likely that you will die.”

“I’ve done it before,” says Lea. “When do we start?”

The wizard smiles grimly at him and leans forward, his hand reaching slowly towards Lea. His impulse is to avoid the touch, but more than he doesn’t want this disturbing person to touch him, he wants to see Roxas again, to hold him and touch him and taste him and…. Yen Sid’s finger touches him between the eyes and everything goes black.

 

He is dreaming. That he’s aware he’s dreaming strikes him as  a little odd, but then everything that’s happened to him for the last god knows how many years has been pretty odd, so what’s one more? It’s very dark here, and he cannot see to choose a direction. He stumbles around in the darkness for a little while, and eventually he hears a voice. It is a voice he knows like he knows his own heart.

“Axel,” is whispers, sounding afraid, “are you sure?”

Jesus. The tone in Roxas’ voice is so damned much like it is when they love each other and it’s breathtaking and blinding and fucking rough, the small breathy voice full of joy and pain and a little fear and Axel…no, he’s Lea now…finds his whole body tense and his teeth grinding together with need of Roxas.

“I’m sure,” he grits out, turning around in circles looking for Roxas.

“You could die!” begs the voice plaintively.

“I’ve died before for you, Rox,” he whispers. “I’d do it again.”

“It’s going to be awful, Axel. You don’t know how bad.”

“Roxy,” he hisses. “I’d set the world on fire to see you again. They won’t stop me.”

A dim glow appears very far away. He is running towards it as fast as he can go, and that’s pretty fucking fast. There’s the clock tower, and Roxas sits there, staring at him as he runs to him, somehow on the same level as Lea even though that’s impossible, unless Lea’s running through the air, though since this is a dream he could be. There’s a darker shadow beside him, a smaller shape in a dark coat, and he squints as he runs towards it, feeling like he ought to know what it means, but he can’t remember. Then he is standing in front of Roxas, his chest heaving with effort.

“Axel,” whispers Roxas, leaning forward, his chin tilting up, his face lifting towards Lea’s, “be SURE. Are you sure?”

“Rox,” he says gruffly, breathlessly, “I have never been more sure of anything in my life. I am coming for you. Memorize it.”

Their lips meet and it is so impossibly sweet it closes his throat with the need to cry. There are tears in Roxas’ eyes too as he pulls back and smiles.

“Then I’ll see you, Axel.”

He wakes up, wet on his cheeks, which he dashes away angrily in case anybody can see him, but when he scrubs the back of his hand across his mouth, he tastes them, and he tucks the dream away because he has a feeling he’s going to need it to get him through what’s coming.

 

He opens his eyes reluctantly, knowing perfectly well, due to the strange clarity he’d retained in his dream that it WAS a dream, that it is gone and he is awake and that he’s lying on a soft surface rather than the floor of Merlin’s odd little (and yet not so little) cottage. He rolls over onto his stomach, feeling the slide of cool cotton sheets on his skin, and buries his face in a pillow. He’s in a bed next to an open window, through which a small breeze enters and plays with the tips of his hair. The sun is rather irritatingly bright, and he can hear birds through the window. He takes mental stock before opening his eyes. He’s not naked, which is probably for the best since he has no idea where he is but can tell by the sounds and smells through the window that he’s NOT in Radiant Garden anymore. Too much smell of green and sap and leaf mold. Too many birds chirping and bitching at each other, squirrels chattering, and some other strange sounds he’s pretty sure are animal in origin. No human voices, no creak of wooden carts, he can’t hear or smell the train. This isn’t as alarming as it perhaps ought to be, because you know, Wizards. Eventually he opens his eyes, making a sound of deep disgust as his retinas are assaulted with bright sunlight streaming in the open window. He’s lying in a small, cozy bed covered in cotton sheets so soft and luxurious they feel like silk and a handmade quilt in a crazy hodgepodge of colors and shapes. It looks almost like a child’s bed, and yet Lea’s feet do not dangle uncomfortably off the end as they do most normal beds. He grunts a little in surprise as he sits up with a groan. His head is pounding.

“The fuck did that old fart do to me,” he whispers irritably, rubbing his temples. He sees that his clothing is draped over the back of a chair near the bed, except his boxer-briefs, which he has mercifully been left wearing. Not that he’s particularly body conscious, it’s just that if somebody’s taking his clothes off, he prefers to be conscious and enjoying it. Which, for the last year and then some, would require the disrober to be Roxas. He eyes the clothes and then looks back down at the bed and contemplates just tucking himself back in to sleep off the pounding in his skull when his head lifts suddenly and his nostrils flare. Tantalizing scents of frying batter and cinnamon and coffee and bacon fill his pounding head with YES, and with HUNGER! He is dressed and descending the steep stairs (almost a ladder really) of what he realizes on his way down is the attic of the cottage to the main room below in less than three minutes.

The kitchen and main living area of the little house are connected into one space, and there are three curious beings hard at work in the cooking space. They are less than a foot tall, each dressed in a long gown. They look for all the world like slightly plump, grandmotherly women, except for their diminutive stature and the quickly fluttering wings on their backs. The taller of the three, who is dressed in a pink gown, cocks her head to the side as he steps on a creaking rung, and turns. Her kind face is wreathed in a welcoming smile.

“Well,” she exclaims in a pleased voice, “look who’s awake! Come, come! Sit and make yourself at home, young Lea. Breakfast won’t be but a moment!”

The other two turn when she speaks, and the one in green echoes the first fairy (he’s going to call them fairies because he lacks a better term and hopes they’re not soul-eating demons disguised as tiny grandmothers…which of course makes him wonder if that’s what they really are and regard them warily from the corners of his eyes as he eases himself into a chair at the small table) echoes the pink one’s greeting.  The fairy in blue, who is shorter and plumper than the other two, scowls at him and turns back to the black iron stove, picking up a skillet and dumping what looks like a pound of perfectly crisp bacon onto a platter.

“Don’t mind her, dear,” says the pink fairy, pointing her wand (her WAND?!) at the table and, apparently, ordering the dishes around because they all start to move, a plate and saucer sliding over to where he sits, cutlery rising wobblingly onto its ends and thumping towards him, a small kettle rising off the table and filling a pretty cup with rich, black coffee, cream and sugar dishes colliding as they jostle a bit for position at his elbow. “She’s just pouting that she isn’t allowed to stay in Radiant Garden and help that nice Leon with the reconstruction.”

“Hard to blame her,” mutters Lea, dumping obscene amounts of sugar into his coffee and stirring it. Leon’s awfully pretty. Not, he reflects while permitting himself a small glare at the stiff back of the small, round woman in blue, as pretty as HE is. The platter of bacon rises from the counter and floats to the table. The pink and green fairies turn back to their tasks as well, and in seconds, other dishes parade towards him through the air. A plate stacked high with thick slabs of French toast is followed by a bowl of strawberries, then a dish mounded with whipped cream and a fat little jug that bobbles a little and causes a thick drop of syrup to spill over and slide down its side. A dish towel shoots out and whips around the jug before the droplet can drip to the floor. For a few minutes, Axel is way too busy eating and making groaning noises that are positively obscene to do anything else. As a nobody, he’d eaten when he needed to and that was about it. Good food hadn’t been a priority, only fuel. Axel had required large amounts of fuel, as his slender body had always burned through it like he was a bottomless pit. He’s pretty sure he’s going to continue to have similar requirements as a Somebody too. This breakfast is prepared to perfection. The bacon is crisp but not burned. The coffee is rich and sweet and not at all bitter. The French toast is crisp around the edges and buttery and fluffy. The strawberries are ripe and juicy. The whipped cream tastes like it literally just came out of a cow specially enchanted to dispense  purely sweet cream instead of milk.

Eventually he’s worked enough of the edge off his hunger to actually speak and not make sex noises over his breakfast. He looks at the three fairies, who bob gently in the air watching him eat.

“Who are you guys?” he asks, his words muffled by the mouthful of a little of everything he’s working on.

“I’m Flora,” says the pink fairy. “That’s Fauna.” She gestures to the green one, who curtsies to him in the air. “And the surly one is Merryweather. Pay no attention to her when she’s cross. She doesn’t mean anything by it.”

“Oh be quiet, you old biddy,” snaps Merryweather, glaring at Flora. “We’re needed out THERE where that….that old poop of a Zebrasnort is trying to ruin everything!”

Lea is transported by her mispronunciation of Xehanort’s name and almost snorts coffee out his nose with laughter.

“Oh god,” he gasps after he manages to swallow, “I will give you anything you want if you will call him that to his face, just one time!”

Merryweather humphs irritably, but he’s pretty sure her mouth twitches with a smile.

“Anybody wanna tell me what’s going on?” he asks as he swipes a smear of syrup off his plate with his finger and then sucks it off.

“It’s quite simple really,” says a voice from across the room. A pair of spectacles appear, followed gradually by a pointed hat, then a long robe and a beard and, inexplicably, an owl, and finally Merlin’s face and hands and wand. The owl separates itself from the wizard, glaring reproachfully at him.

“Will you NEVER just send us all at once as you’re perfectly capable of managing? When you do this ridiculous piecemeal act it makes me feel like I’m going to appear naked as a jaybird because you forgot my feathers!” it snaps petulantly, flapping up to perch on a stuffed alligator which hangs from the ceiling, staring balefully at the wizard.

“Oh posh,” says Merlin good-naturedly. “I practically never leave bits behind. You’re just a fusspot.”

Fusspot, mouths Lea in amazement. THIS is the person who’s going to train him to be a Key Bearer?

“Flora, Fauna, Merryweather and I are in charge of your training. We’ve been transported here into a nice little pocket dimension Yen Sid and I designed. Time here will seem to flow normally, while in the real world mere days will actually pass.”

“Handy,” says Lea, his mouth once more full of bacon. Bacon is his favorite thing. Aside from Roxas, of course.

“Yen Sid needs to speak with you before we begin, however,” says Merlin solemnly. “Once you’re finished, he’s waiting for you in my study.”

Lea wipes his mouth on a napkin, thanks the fairies for breakfast, and heads for the study. Time difference or not, he wants to get this ball rolling. Yen Sid is sitting behind a heavy wooden desk which is cluttered with parchment and scrolls and books and crystals and vials and feathers and bits of crushed plant. He has what looks like a small stack of photographs in his hand.

The look on the old wizard’s face is impassive when he slides the photographs across his desk to the young Key-bearer-in-training. He informs Lea that there’s something they need to discuss before he can begin his training.

“Here,” rumbles his deep voice. Lea takes the small stack of pictures and lifts them reluctantly. It can’t be good that the old man is here, preventing him from getting started. His dread is proved justified when his brain registers what he’s seeing.

The first picture is of Riku, the young man’s body dangling from where his shackled wrists secure him to a stone wall. His toes are on the floor, but he’s making no effort to support his own weight. His head is down, his silvery hair matted and filthy. Blood drips from his chin. His shirt and vest are gone, his muscled torso covered with bruises, welts and spots that look suspiciously like burns. Lea swallows. He doesn’t know Riku well, but from what little he’s seen, he’s pretty sure that what’s between him and Roxas is what Riku shares with Sora, and Lea can’t bring himself not to care about that. The photo makes him angry.

“Where,” he starts, but Yen Sid cuts him off and makes him continue.

The second picture is Sora, and Lea curses softy. The younger boy is shacked in a manner similar to his boyfriend’s, but his feet cannot quite reach the floor. His hands are purple and swollen from lack of circulation. He wears only a dirty pair of graying boxer shorts, and his legs are bruised and tormented as his torso. Dried tear tracks stain his face.  Lea grinds his teeth together and looks up at Yen Sid with rage in his eyes.

“Look at the last one,” orders the wizard coldly. Lea does so, and feels all the blood drain from his face.

“How…” he whispers hoarsely.

“The one who took them has abilities we do not fully understand. He is not of this world. We are unsure how he has managed to complete the separation.”

The one in the picture is Roxas. He is naked, bound hand and foot to a heavy cross, his perfect body covered with vicious welts and cuts, some scabbed over to black and mottled with bruising, others oozing fresh blood. He is conscious in the picture, neck twisted sideways so he can look back over his shoulder, one bright blue eye swollen with crying but glaring at the photographer. His mouth is open, but he’s not screaming. No, not his Roxy. He’s yelling, shouting in rage and defiance at his tormentor.

“Where?” snarls Lea.

“They’ve been captured by Sephiroth, Lea,” says Yen Sid softly. Lea’s breath catches in his throat. Sephiroth’s presence in the Worlds is a mistake, one he’s pretty sure Xemnas regretted almost immediately after the refugees from that place, which had fallen into darkness, began to arrive. More heroes to join with the Key bearers in their fight to prevent Kingdom Hearts….and….that thing. The monster. More purely evil and sadistic than any being Lea has ever heard of. Sephiroth makes Xemnas look like Santa Claus in comparison. They had been saved having to concern themselves with him very much due to the fact that Sephiroth’s only real interest lay in pursuing his nemesis, Cloud Strife. Apparently he has expanded his interests.

“Has he sent demands?” grits Lea, emerald eyes burning a hole in the old wizard who is watching him gravely across his desk. Sephiroth rarely does something as elaborate as this unless he wants something. Lea remembers meeting him once in the corridors. Sephiroth, who is as breathtakingly beautiful as he is cold, had paused and regarded Axel with great interest, his impossibly long sword reaching towards him, almost caressingly. Axel had slapped it away with a twist of his chakram and gone about his business, shooting a cocky grin and a teasing taunt over his shoulder as he sped on. He remembers the way Sephiroth’s deep voice had vibrated in the corridor, even in his bones, as he had murmured to himself.

“Interesting.”

“Yes,” says Yen Sid.

“What. Are. They,” snarls Lea through his teeth. Old guy’s really starting to piss him off.

“A willing exchange,” says Yen Sid heavily. “One person to submit themselves willingly to him, with their word that they will not fight back or try to escape, for a period of twenty-four hours.”

Lea looks down at his lap, not seeing the pictures as they slide from nerveless fingers to fall to the floor, staring blindly at his hands while they curl slowly into fists. Twenty-four hours. He remembers their meeting much better now, the quick hard shine of lust in Sephiroth’s eyes as they locked gazes for a few seconds, the twist of his lips into a sly and silky grin.

“Tell me where,” he says softly, getting to his feet. Yen Sid watches him for a few seconds while Lea fights his impulse to scream at the old fuck to just tell him where to fucking go already before he chickens out! He has no doubts about what awaits him. Yen Sid names a locale. It is one he knows. He nods curtly and turns to go.

“What if I were to tell you that I have enough power to free one of them, Lea?” asks the old man keenly. “I can pull one of them from beneath Sephiroth’s nose and whisk them here to safety in the blink of an eye. What would you do then?” Lea glares at him.

“Fuck you, old man,” he hisses. “Roxas then, and you knew I’d say it, and it’s not only because I love him, you bastard. The others have more training, they’ve prepared more.”

“Then will you remain here and wait until I have secured your friend’s freedom?” sighs Yen Sid. “Perhaps something else can be done for Riku and Sora.”

“No. Something else, my ass, you bastard. Tell Roxas….” He swallows. “Tell him….well. Just tell him, okay?”

“You have no love for Riku and Sora,” protests the mage in surprise. Lea, on his way out the door, freezes and clenches his fists at his sides, his body rigid with rage and terror. He looks over his shoulder at Yen Sid, and hates him a little bit.

“If you think I’d sit here and let him….let them….oh, fuck you. Think Roxas’d thank me for leaving them and saving him? Think I could be the man he wants me to be if I leave them there? If you thought I’d sit here and let that sick fuck keep his hands on Sora… and on the only Keyblade Master we fucking have, you absolute shit, then yeah, FUCK you. I’ll be back in twenty-four hours, and you better stock up on goddamn hi potions and you feed them to me your damn self so you can see everything he does to me, and I hope it chokes you.”

He walks out, sick and shaking, leaving the door standing open behind him because that makes a much more effective statement than slamming it would. He walks a little ways from the cottage so no one at the windows can see him, then he leans his forearm against a tree trunk and rests his forehead on it for a minute, panting in fear and trying to steel himself for what he’s going to do. Lea doesn’t know how to not fight when he is backed into a corner. But Riku and Sora are depending on him. He doesn’t know exactly what Sephiroth will do to him, but he can imagine, and it rests cold and sick in his belly, slicks his body with clammy sweat. He clenches his teeth, wishing his imagination wasn’t quite so vivid, and gestures behind himself with a hand that only shakes a little. The corridor opens, so he zips his coat and stands in front of it, staring into the void for a few seconds. Then he squares his shoulders and steps through with his head high.

Sephiroth’s fortress is impenetrable to his magic, so Lea steps from the darkness near the front gates. It is a place typical of its ilk, dark and brooding, made of dark stone and riddled with forbidding spires and small windows that look as though they’re watching him.

“Well that’s original,” he mutters, and stomps up to the heavy, barred gates. He’s raising his fist to pound at them when one of the gates swings inward silently, beckoning him on. He mentally kicks himself for the frisson of nerves he feels at being expected, and steps through. Because the place is just such a cliché, and because he expects its master to live up to its appearance, he looks for stairs. The captives will be in the dungeon, but Sephiroth himself will be awaiting his visitor in the highest tower. This, Lea thinks sullenly as he climbs a very long, curving stairway, is just so that his enemies will wear themselves into exhaustion on the FUCKING STAIRS before they reach the man at the top. If he is a man. Lea doesn’t think he is anymore, if he ever was.

Oh, he looks like one though, Lea is reminded forcibly as the stair finally ends and he stumbles just a bit as he enters Sephiroth’s chamber and comes face to face with him. Sephiroth’s is the face of an angel. A fallen one, perhaps, but one formed by a generous and lavish god, with a body made for sin to go along with the flawless face. His mouth is lush and his smile full of promises of filth. His silver hair, like tinsel spun into silk, frames his poetic face but does nothing to hide the empty pits covered with a shine of gleeful lust that are Sephiroth’s eyes. There is nothing sane in them.

“Oh,” breathes the monster in his resonant voice, “have you come to play with me?”

“Yep,” says Lea carelessly, surreptitiously digging his fingernails into the palms of his hands until they bleed in order to keep the fear out of his voice. He’s under no illusions that Sephiroth will spare him. “Can’t wait.”

“You’re lying,” whispers Sephiroth, crossing the room to where Lea stands, his leather-clad and perfectly chiseled body slinking like a cat’s. Lea stands stock still and does not react. “You don’t want to play, not really. It’s naughty to lie, sweet Axel. Do you know what happens to naughty boys?”

Lea closes his eyes and suppresses a shudder, because he can probably imagine.

“Naughty boys,” whispers Sephiroth even more quietly than before but Lea can hear him fine because the sick fuck is standing right next to him and he doesn’t have to lean down to whisper into Lea’s ear, “get _punished._ ”

“Bring it,” he grits through his teeth. “I’ve been pretty bad, and you’ve got twenty-four hours before I do my fucking best to kill you.”

Sephiroth straightens up and claps his hands in delight.

“Oh what fun! A lively one. The others are no fun to play with. But you will be, won’t you, Axel? You’ll be loads and loads of fun. Do promise, beautiful one, I would so hate to be disappointed. After all, you’re going to want to make me as happy as you can, because your little friends don’t go free until I decide their ransom has been adequately paid.”

“That’s not the bargain,” Lea growls angrily. “You said a willing exchange and they’re free to go.”

“Ah, ah,” scolds Sephiroth. “I’ll keep them as my assurance of your cooperation for the full twenty four hours.”

“I want to see them,” says the younger man. “I want proof that they’re all right.”

“A reasonable request,” muses Sephiroth. “And one I am inclined to grant you, with certain conditions. I require a…demonstration….of your true willingness to submit to whatever I desire to do to you while you’re my guest. Then you may see your friends and assure yourself that they are indeed alive and…well.”

“What do you want,” asks Lea coldly.

“Get on your knees,” purrs Sephiroth, his graceful hands unbuckling his belt and working on his fly. “And show me what a good boy you can be.”

 

It’s nausea that returns first, slimy and sick in his belly, cold and clammy and awful. Then the cold. He’s lying on a stone floor, his body aching all over. His head is going to split open in a minute and spill his brains out on the floor. Which would be okay, if they took the memories with them. Of Sephiroth’s…of the taste of him. Lea rolls to his hands and knees just in time and vomits on the floor, gagging and coughing, tears streaming from his eyes. He is naked, and doesn’t think there’s a single patch of his skin or bone that doesn’t hurt. He remembers that after he’d….no. After, just after. Afterwards, Sephiroth had brought him down stair after stair, stumbling and coughing and horrified, and shown him Riku and Sora, chained in small dirty cells. He’d tried to call out to them, but Sephiroth had laughed.

“They can’t hear or see you, silly boy,” he’d said happily. “I’ve put a special barrier on their cells. You can see in, but they can’t see out. Can’t hear your voice. They’re alone in the dark. No hope.”

“Fucking bastard,” he’d ground out between his teeth. Sephiroth had backhanded him casually across the face, tossing him across the room as simple as thought. Enraged, he’d bounced to his feet, hands spread, fire coming to his summons. Sephiroth had watched impassively. Lea had put out the fires, dropped his hands and his head and sighed. Delighted, Sephiroth had clapped his hands.

“Oooh, what a good boy! You remembered your promise. Can you keep remembering, pretty Axel? Or will you fight me and cost them their lives?”

“What do you want me to do next?” he had asked dully.

“Take off your clothes. I want to hear you sing,” purred Sephiroth.

After that, it had mostly just been pain.

 

He takes stock of his injuries, decides Sephiroth is being careful with him. Just bruises, mainly. A few lacerations from the flogger. No broken bones, no internal bleeding he doesn’t think. A sound draws his attention and he turns his head from where he kneels. His captor stands watching him, smirking.

“Up, up, up, pretty pet,” he says cheerfully. “You slept almost an hour. That’s very rude, when you’re my cooperative guest for such a short time. You should thank me for letting you have that hour.”

Lea glares hatred at the monster in the pretty package and staggers to his feet, never taking his eyes from Sephiroth’s face. Sephiroth’s smile is as open and joyful as a little boy’s at Christmas. It makes him want to vomit again, but he doesn’t. He nods his head towards a corner of the room, where a huge heavy wooden X-frame leans against the wall, bolted there with heavy iron bolts. Lea straightens his spine and walks over to it slowly, because every second he drags this out is one less second when Sephiroth can be hurting him. He leans forward against the cross, raising his arms to where leather cuffs dangle. Sephiroth moves to buckle them, but Lea snarls.

“You won’t need those,” he says curtly, taking hold of the cuffs, wrapping their short chains around his wrists so he won’t let go too easily, and hanging on. He lays his cheek against the wood and closes his eyes, sighing. Sephiroth giggles delightedly and pats his shoulder. Lea shudders when the hand then strokes slowly down his back, pausing over a few welts and abrasions to press on them gently, and finally cups his ass. Lea swallows bile and doesn’t react. Sephiroth chuckles a little and then slaps Lea on his ass as hard as he can with his bare hand. It smarts, a lot, but it’s nothing he can’t handle. Then he hears a dry, slithering sound and Sephiroth steps away. He turns his head a little more to see what the sound is, and the maniac is strolling back and forth in a half circle around Lea and the cross, idly sweeping a long, sinuous black whip across the stone floor. He can’t tell how long it is, more than six feet, and it moves like it’s alive, and is almost as thick as Lea’s wrist at the handle.

“You don’t take very good care of your toys,” he says reprovingly. “That looks really well-made and you’re just dragging it around on a dirty stone floor.”

Sephiroth frowns at him a little.

“You’re a very disrespectful boy,” he says thoughtfully. “Really Axel, I had no idea how much punishment you were actually going to require.”

“Just call me the brat prince of Radiant Garden,” he snarks, laughing softly at his own cleverness. His laugh changes to a scream when the whip lashes out and opens his skin in a line of pure hellfire across his shoulders. Sephiroth makes a sound of gleeful pleasure, and Lea’s world turns into pain. The whip hurts so bad it makes him feel sick. There’s no room in his mind, in his slender body, for that much pain to fit. He doesn’t try to resist it. What’s the point? Who’s going to care how much he shrieks? And it helps, a little, to open his mouth and let the agony rip from his throat. Not much, but a little. He’s shaking and sick and can feel blood sliding down his skin to drip on the floor when the madman stops. In the ringing silence broken only by his own sobs, he can hear the faint plip, plip, plip sound of his blood dripping onto the floor. Sephiroth cleans him off with something that burns like fuck, but it stops the bleeding. Every mark from the whip sings and throbs with pain. He starts to push himself upright, to turn and face his tormentor, find out what’s next, but Sephiroth’s hand on his back presses him against the cross.

“We’re not finished here yet, lovely,” he whispers into Lea’s ear. “You took your punishment well, so I’m going to reward you now.”

“You’re…whuh?” asks Lea in confusion, only wishes he hadn’t when his question is answered by a cold, slick finger worming between his ass cheeks to stab at him. He presses his forehead against the cross and closes his eyes, gritting his teeth. It’s not like he hadn’t expected this. Actually, he’s surprised Sephiroth’s bothering with lubrication. He tries to calm his breathing, tries to prepare himself for his own rape, but it’s pretty hard. What actually happens is worse, in a way. At first, anyway. Sephiroth works first one and then two fingers into Lea’s body, leaning close to press against his throbbing back. He rests his chin on Lea’s shoulder so he can watch his prisoner’s face and is able to whisper right in his ear. His fingers are gentle. It’s weird and terrifying and horrible. It becomes moreso when the careful fingers find what they seek and stroke slowly and tenderly over the place inside his body that sends pleasure singing through his blood. He feels himself start to rouse to the touch, and it is horrifying.

“There’s a good boy,” croons Sephiroth in his ear, pressing gently. “See, isn’t this nice? I can make you feel good, pretty Axel, can make you hard and happy, give you pleasure, make you come for me. Make you feel like Roxas never did.”

Lea’s mind starts to babble humiliated protests at itself when Sephiroth’s last comment registers in his mind. Lea nearly laughs.

“J-just because there’s a…hah…part of my..hnn…body that’s too…nn…stupid to tell the di…difference,” he gasps, because oh GODS those fingers are driving him mad but he’s got this now, it’s not going to break him now, “ doesn’t m-mean I’m…ungh…feeling it for _you._ ”

“Ohh but you are, Axel, there’s only you and me here, and I’m going to give you pleasure whether you like it or not, and you’ll despair even as your body responds to my touch, because you’re mine and you can’t stop me and I’ll make you betray what you love.”

Lea doesn’t respond to this directly, because honestly, what’s the point? He smiles a little and closes his eyes, rocking back into Sephiroth’s touch, and he moans softly.

“Ohhh,” he whispers. Sephiroth purrs. Lea ignores him, and pictures bright blue eyes and messy hair the color of the shiny brass ring on a carousel, and a sturdy young body that had trembled for him.

“Good boy,” breathes Sephiroth.

“Roxas,” whispers Lea. The fingers stroke and press and coax drugging pleasure from that place inside his body that doesn’t know better, but it doesn’t matter. Lea takes Sephiroth’s dirty trick and turns it against him, holding his lover in his mind’s eye and recalling loving him, slow and easy and so right, all those nights they shared in the Castle That Never Was. “Ohh Rox,” he pants softly. “S-so good. Mm.”

“Stop that,” hisses Sephiroth angrily, jabbing his fingers cruelly against Lea’s prostate. Doesn’t hurt though, not at all. Axel always liked things a little rough, and even though he never bottomed for Roxas, it’s Roxas who he is making love to while this vile creature tries to humiliate him.

“Hah…ah…ohgod…,” he gasps, rocking his hips and holding Roxas firmly in his mind. He knows Roxas wouldn’t mind, would tell Lea to do anything he needs to do to get through this, and that because in his heart he is not betraying Roxas, then the betrayal doesn’t exist. He has no choice in what Sephiroth does to him, but he chooses not to let this break him.

“Yesssss,” hisses the crazy fuck into his ear, “come on, pretty little Axel, come for me.”

Lea’s spine arches and he presses into the stroking fingers and throws his head back as his passion is pulled from his body, and he cries out as it swamps him.

“Rox…ohh…hah…ahh…ROXAS!”

He’s still shuddering from it when Sephiroth shrieks at him in fury and yanks him by the hair to a nearby table, shoving him over it facedown. Then he does what Lea’s been expecting since he got here, and he is no longer even the least bit gentle, and it’s every bit as horrible as he’d expected it to be. The pain is monstrous, and he can’t escape it, and he screams and shakes and struggles, and Sephiroth laughs and takes care to make it hurt as much as he can.

He leaves the room when he’s done, and Lea slides from the table to the cold stone floor. As he lays there, letting the rocks leach the heat from his body until he feels as cold on the outside as he does on the inside, he stares out at the sky. It might look mindless to an observer, but in his head Lea is taking note of the position of the sun. It has been approximately six hours. Eighteen more to go. To the young man on the floor, his body decorated with bruises and cuts and blood and…unspeakable things, it sounds like a life sentence. He closes his eyes and sleeps a little, or perhaps merely passes out. It doesn’t matter. When he opens his eyes, the sun has moved a little more and there are two fewer hours remaining to endure.

Someone brings him water, and a little bit of food. He doesn’t want it, but known intellectually that his body will weaken quickly under these conditions and that fuel will make a difference. At least some. He drags himself to a wooden chair at the table where Sephiroth had…no. He’s not going to think about it. He’s NOT. He has to sit forwards, on his thighs, but he sits there like a human being and he makes himself slowly and carefully consume the soup and bread. Sephiroth returns as he is finishing the last few bites and sits across from him, watching with interest.

“You know, you were quite bad again when I was only trying to be nice to you,” he says, sounding a little petulant. Lea wants to laugh, but doesn’t. He doesn’t respond at all, just scrapes the last bite of soup from the bowl and stares at him. Sephiroth continues. “In fact, it made me question whether you’re really being as cooperative as our agreement requires.”

Lea’s stomach clenches. Of course Sephiroth is going to look for a reason to go back on the bargain so he can refuse to let Riku and Sora free. Of course he is.

“There’s nothing in the agreement that says I’m not allowed to think about someone else when you touch me,” he says hoarsely.

“Hm,” says Sephiroth with a twinkle, touching his lip with his index finger. “Well, I might forgive you. But I’m going to need a little demonstration of obedience from you, dear Axel.” As he’s speaking, he reaches out and takes Lea’s hand. The instinct, of course, is to pull away, but he doesn’t. Sephiroth smiles happily when Lea obediently allows him to play with his hand, turning it this way and that and inspecting it, running a thumb over Lea’s knuckles, touching his fingernails. “You’ll be a good boy now, won’t you?” whispers Sephiroth, his grip tightening a little. Lea concentrates on not trying to pull away and nods shortly. Sephiroth beams at him, and carefully and deliberately snaps Lea’s index finger. Lea shrieks, and his body jerks and shivers, but he doesn’t pull away. Slowly and delightedly, the silver-haired demon breaks all of the fingers on that hand, while Lea lets him. His hand is on fire with agony when it’s over, and he’s dizzy with pain and there are black spots swimming in front of his eyes, but he doesn’t pull away and Sephiroth doesn’t say anything more about not honoring the deal.

“Come now, up you go,” cries Sephiroth gaily, pulling Lea to his feet and leading him, stumbling, back over to the cross. He pushes his light-headed victim up against it on his back, so that Lea is facing Sephiroth’s smirking face. There’s a knife in the monster’s hand. He is twirling it between his fingers and gazing at Lea’s body like a lover. Lea wonders idly if Sephiroth will be displeased if he hurls all over him. The pain this time isn’t as awful as the reality of what is being done to him. Lea can handle the minor pain of shallow knife cuts. It’s not like he enjoys it or anything, but Sephiroth doesn’t stab or gouge or rend his flesh. He slowly, carefully, and painstakingly carves his name all over the front of Lea’s body in shallow cuts that decorate alabaster skin with red ribbons. It’s being marked with this fucker’s name that hurts him more. He hopes healing potions don’t leave scars behind, because the thought of having that name as a permanent fixture on his skin makes him want to die. The thought of seeing Roxas again at last with Sephiroth’s claim marked permanently into his flesh is too horrible to contemplate. He stares out the window over Sephiroth’s shoulder and watches the sun’s path. Has it slowed down? Moved backwards? Can Sephiroth do that? Slow or even reverse time so that he never has to let Lea go? He’s able to do a lot of shit he shouldn’t be able to do. Sephiroth pauses in his decoration of Lea’s skin to attempt to arouse him to Sephiroth’s hand again. He doesn’t use the natural and instinctive and involuntary responses of Lea’s body this time, but tries straightforward seduction. Lea stands woodenly and lets Sephiroth kiss him and lick the blood from his wounds like a fucking cat licking cream, and touch and stroke his uninterested flesh. He doesn’t fight, and opens his mouth obediently to let Sephiroth’s tongue in, but he doesn’t respond. He can’t. What had happened before, when Lea knew damned well he couldn’t help it, he’d been able to forgive himself and use his feelings for Roxas to keep Sephiroth out and turn the assault around so that it did not touch his heart. To respond to this though, would be a betrayal he’s unable to even consider, so he just stands there and stares blindly out the window until Sephiroth grows annoyed. He can’t say Lea’s not being obedient, because he does not struggle or defy the man, he simply can’t respond physically the way Sephiroth wants. Snarling, the beautiful monster returns to carving up Lea’s skin, only this time he’s less controlled and the cuts are deeper and Lea groans and hisses and writhes in pain. His lips tingle with cold and he grits his teeth to keep them from chattering. He feels disconnected from his body, and it’s not a bad feeling at all, removing him a little from the pain. Sephiroth lets out a startled exclamation and catches him as Lea slides slowly down the cross, eyes rolling back into his head. His vision narrows and goes white around the edges, and then he knows no more.

When he regains consciousness, he’s lying on a cot, a rough cotton blanket underneath him. Someone is moving nearby. He turns his head to look, and sees Sephiroth putting away bandages and other first aid supplies in a box on a small table. Sensing Lea’s movement, he turns to look down at him and sighs.

“I’m afraid I got a little teensy bit carried away,” sighs Sephiroth. “You lost a little blood and fainted on me. You’re fine now. I’ve given you a restorative to counteract the blood loss and tended your wounds. You should thank me.”

“Thank you,” says Lea, his voice dripping sarcasm, which is apparently totally lost on the madman next to him, because Sephiroth beams with pleasure. He does feel better, and a glance at the window shows him it is night time now. In the morning, he will be free, as will Riku and Sora. His heart lifts a little. Rox, he thinks, I’m coming. I’ll see you soon!

Sephiroth makes the most of his remaining time. He chains Lea’s hands over his head to the ceiling and methodically beats him with his fists and feet until Lea is coughing blood and nearly unconscious again. When burning him with a hot wire proves ineffective (and really? It’s not like the asshole isn’t aware Lea’s power is FIRE, come on!), he changes tactics and uses cold, and then electricity, to wring shrieks of agony from his captive. Lea doesn’t fight it. Gods, it hurts so fucking much. His body a rigid curve of agony, every muscle clenched to the point of cramping, shuddering and panting and trying to just breathe, he takes it. Sephiroth grows more frenzied as the first rose colored light of dawn touches the horizon, as though he’s trying to make Lea resist so that he can call their bargain null and void. Lea thinks of Roxas and he does not resist. The sun is up at last, and Lea lifts his head to look into Sephiroth’s mad eyes.

“Time’s….up…,” he gasps. “Let…Riku and Sora…go.”

Sephiroth makes a little moue of displeasure and sighs.

“Fine. I can’t say you haven’t kept the bargain. They’re free to go. Look out the window.”

Tiredly, Lea forces his neck to work and dimly, he sees the two key bearers appear outside the fortress on the stone path leading from the gates. He sighs heavily.

“Now…let me…go…you asshole,” he hisses. Sephiroth laughs delightedly and claps his hands.

“Whatever makes you think I’m going to do that?” he cries happily. Lea’s eyes widen.

“You made…a bargain,” he snarls.

“I promised to let them go if you submitted to me for twenty four hours. Congratulations, pretty Axel, you’ve earned their freedom. Where in our bargain did it say YOU would be free to go once the time was up?”

Despair rises up to swallow Lea whole. He lowers his head and feels hot, bitter tears roll down his cheeks. No, he thinks, but his thoughts are dull and hopeless, because it’s true. There had been no promise that he’d be freed as well. Sephiroth is perfectly free to torture him to death as quickly or as slowly as he likes, and Lea cannot do anything about it. Cannot……

Cannot…

Fight…..

Him.

Oh. Bargain’s over. Bargain’s fucking over, and the Flurry of Dancing Awesome isn’t bound to obey one single thing this crazy shitsack commands anymore. He keeps his head down, lets his body sag in defeat. He’s leaning against the cross again, currently enjoying having small clamps attached to various bits of his anatomy and then ripped off. He shudders and sobs a little.

“Please,” he begs. Sephiroth laughs. He falls to his knees and looks up at the gorgeous muscled body of his tormentor and licks his lips. “Let me go,” he pleads. Sephiroth beams and cards his fingers through the sweaty, messy spikes of Lea’s crimson hair.

“Never,” he breathes.

“Then,” whimpers Lea, biting his lip and giving Sephiroth broken eyes, “then…I…make me f-forget him” he whispers. “L-let me just…I’ll…I’ll be yours if you…if you won’t…hurt me…anymore,” he stammers, and he leans forward against Sephiroth’s legs, kissing his leather-clad thigh, brushing his lips over slim hips and a lean waist, rising up a little higher on his knees to press his mouth to the smooth muscle of Sephiroth’s belly. Sephiroth, for his part, stands very still, trembling with eagerness. He stares down at Lea and when Lea rolls his eyes up to gaze entreatingly at him, Sephiroth smiles gently. Shivering with weakness, Lea climbs Sephiroth’s body, placing desperate kisses up his stomach and chest and then his throat. At last he stands, swaying gently, and kisses Sephiroth anxiously on his mouth. He feels the eagerness thrumming through his captor, feels the moment Sephiroth really buys it and starts kissing Lea back with a groan.

“Oh Axel,” moans the silver-eyed freak, “I knew you’d come around. Ohh, we’re going to have such fun!”

Lea’s lips curve gently in a smile.

“My name,” he murmurs gently against Sephiroth’s mouth, “is LEA!” He leans back in the few seconds of startled confusion he’s gained himself and punches Sephiroth in the mouth with a fist that erupts in flames. The monster’s lips split against his own teeth and Lea smells burning hair as he turns and dives out the widow, laughing like a lunatic at Sephiroth’s enraged howls. He’s awfully high up, and he’s hurt really badly, so he only just manages to open a corridor in time to fall through it. It’s…horrible. He’s not wearing his coat, and the darkness tugs and whispers and nips gleefully at his body. He staggers to his hands and knees and moans in despair. So fucking close. But he’s cold. He’s so cold, and the darkness can get in, in through the hundreds of cuts in his skin, biting and pulling him apart bit by bit. Slowly, he falls forward onto his face and lets the darkness take him.

“S-sorry…Roxas,” he whispers, closing his eyes.

 

When he opens them again, he’s in a cozy little bed with a pretty quilt. He feels tired, but as he takes stock of his body, he realizes he’s not in pain. He lifts an arm and peers at it suspiciously. No marks, no scars. He’s been healed then. He turns his head and sees Yen Sid sitting at his bedside.

“You got me out,” he says, his voice a little hoarse, but he feels fine.

“You were never in any danger,” says Yen Sid with a sigh, staring out the window.

“What? What the hell are you talking about? Where’s Roxas?”

“Inside of Sora where he has been,” says the wizard reluctantly.

“What. The. Fuck!” cries Axel, scrambling to a sitting position.

“I am sorry for the deception,” says the old man heavily. “You see, we needed to be sure of you.”

“You! I…what? What the fuck are you talking about, you fucking relic?” he snarls.

“You want to be a keyblade weilder, and you do have the potential. There is a war coming, and you…you have been our adversary for some time. We had to know that you could be trusted to fight with us and not against us, that you would not turn away when sacrifice was required.”

“Are you telling me,” Lea hisses furiously, “that all of what I just did…was a fucking LIE?”

“An illusion,” says Yen Sid sadly. “And I am sorry for its necessity, young Lea. You…you humbled me with your self-sacrifice. You performed well beyond my expectations.”

“It wasn’t a performance for me, you unbelievable bastard,” shrieks Lea, leaping out of the bed so that he stands glaring down at the wizard, his whole body tense, chest heaving with rage. The door opens, and Merlin is standing in it, eyes flashing. Lea whirls to face him.

“Don’t you dare,” he snarls at the other wizard, “try to justify this!”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, dear boy,” says Merlin softly. His gaze turns to Yen Sid and sharpens. “Get,” he says coldly, “Out.”

“What!” says Yen Sid, astonished. Merlin takes a step towards him flanked by the three fairies, who look like very tiny avenging angels. Pissed off ones.

“I said,” Merlin growls, taking step forward and pulling his wand, “get out of my house and leave my student alone or I will blast you to Bermuda!” His beard bristles with outrage. Yen Sid’s bushy eyebrows raise and he stares in astonishment at them all.

“Merlin,” he says calmly.

“NO!” booms the little wizard. “Get. Out. Now! Testing the boy may have been necessary, but what you’ve done is…reprehensible!”

“Despicable,” pipes up Flora indignantly.

“Unforgiveable,” cries Fauna.

“Bag of dicks!” yells Merryweather, red-faced with fury.

They chase Yen Sid physically from the house. Merlin sits down on the bed as Lea sags down beside him, chuckling helplessly at the fairies’ actions while also still feeling horribly sick and betrayed.

“I am so sorry, Lea,” says Merlin softly. “I didn’t know what the test was going to be. I’d have never agreed to it.”

“I believe you,” says Lea heavily. He’s going to be okay, he thinks. The torture he could have dealt with, even finding out that Riku and Sora hadn’t actually been captured by Sephiroth. But believing he’d see Roxas again and having that yanked out from under him is more cruel than anything he can remember Xemnas doing to him. “That guy’s an asshole,” he says bleakly, putting his face in his hands and wishing he didn’t feel like crying.

“Yes,” agrees Merlin simply, which strikes him as pretty funny considering they’re allies, so Lea laughs instead.

“I’m gonna do this,” he says softly.

“Yes,” agrees Merlin again. “And you’re going to see Roxas again as well.”

“You know this, do you?”

“Believe it,” says Merlin firmly.

“I do,” says Lea. “Let’s do this.”


End file.
